In the spring of 2023 I determined that, perhaps inadvisably but totally on brand, I should take up stick and poke tattoos. Stick and poke tattoos are not done with a tattoo machine but instead with the needle held in the hand and the ink manually applied spot by spot one drop at a time.  This type of tattoo harkens back to the traditional tattooing methods emerging more than 5300 years ago as evidenced by the geometric dots and crosses of Ötzi the European Tyrolean Iceman.  It also may be a reminder of punk rock, jail, or of the friend or acquaintance in school who was known to tattoo themselves with a safety pin and ink from a ballpoint pen.  As I have a history with self-harm I discussed this decision with my therapist.  Tattoos, and many other things that cause pain, can be powerful maladaptive coping behaviors to deal with emotional turmoil and I was in turmoil at the time.  Seeking assurance that I wasn’t returning to a slippery slope I discussed it with my therapist and she expressed understanding about my concerns and let me process them aloud instead of offering advice which is what I had asked for (she’s good lol).

I have tattooed myself multiple times now.  A tiny broken heart, an elephant, a series of symbols that mean something to me on my fingers.  An external representation of something private and contained within the self.  Less visible than tattoos made with ink on skin, life’s triumphs as well as difficulties have a way of marking themselves on our spirits.  Some we welcome!  The professional buzz of the intellectual machine buzzing away as we find success, or love, or belonging.  Some we don’t welcome as much.  The raw sensation of needles going over and over the same spot as we experience grief, and pain, and loss or the unwelcome and slow individual pokes.  Drop by drop, the steady and pervasive impact of mental illness, or financial difficulties, the permanent record of our struggle and stress.  But sometimes we find the slow and lazy application of beauty when we find understanding,  respite, or safety from those very same things.  Marks that we bear upon ourselves, often hidden away from prying eyes, even those of the ones we trust.  Permanent, enduring, and something that may bring empowerment or may bring shame.  As tangible to us as any scar or other external mark.

My recovery in many ways has become about being very intentional in the things that I accept, the things that I don’t accept, and how that determination is made.  About acknowledging and embracing the paradoxes and dichotomies.  For most of my life the marks on my soul, and the things that made them, were outside of my power to influence or control in any meaningful way.  Not because I did not have the means to do so, but because I was lacking in the understanding that influencing these things could even be an option.  My life currently is about identifying and removing my mask(s) when, and where, it is safe to do so.  Making the things that have almost always been purely internal into something external.  About telling the truth, especially when I don’t want to do so. 

Deciding to be truthful, to be open about our lives, can be a daunting proposition.  Vulnerability exposes us.  Exposure feels like the removal of many, or all, of the emotional safety measures we currently have employed around us.  Like taking off our armor and setting down our emotional weaponry, leaving us naked and unprotected.  Uncomfortable yes, but possibly also open to something.  Something that I never previously knew that I could expect.  Power.  My discomfort and exposure can bring empowerment.  Empowerment to acknowledge the marks that have been made on my soul.  Empowerment to acknowledge that in exposing weakness and turmoil I am stating “I don’t want to do this alone anymore”.

We bear marks upon our bodies and marks upon our souls.  And sometimes, we choose to share what those are.  When I hold your hand in mine feel free to look at what is represented there on my skin.  Know that my story, the beautiful and the unsightly both, are there and you are not alone…..